Jessica Andersen - Bullseye

“Sounds like a plan.” He gestured her toward the front door and turned off the remainder of the interior lights. “And, Isabella?”

“Yes?” She paused just inside the front door and turned back to him. The outdoor light cast her in shadow, emphasizing the bruise on her cheek and the dark circles beneath her eyes that made her look young. Vulnerable. Sad.

He shrugged and felt his clothes bind as though they didn’t fit quite right. I’m glad you came to me, he wanted to say, because it scared him to think of her out there alone, searching for Boone Fowler and his men, who would skin her as soon as look at her.

Because of that fear, and because he was suddenly swamped with the irrational desire to pull her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, he scowled and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Never mind. Let’s get out of here. We can send someone back tomorrow to question the staff. There had to be an insider with access to the keys and the security system.”

She nodded and slipped through the front door as though grateful to be away from the emptiness of the chalet. He couldn’t blame her. It was damned eerie how all that violence had been wiped away with a hasty cleaning.

Feeling a small shiver prickle the nape of his neck, Jacob snapped off the last light to plunge them into deep darkness. He closed the front door, which locked behind them, and shivered for real as the September cold sliced through his leather jacket.

It might still be pleasant during the day, but the nights were getting harsher. Snow was on the way. Winter.

“Brr.” Isabella rubbed warmth into her arms. At least he thought she did. In the deep night before dawn, he barely saw the motion, though the cold and the dark seemed to amplify the sound of rustling cloth and the whisper of skin over skin.

“Here.” He shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over her shoulders, which were just barely visible as a lighter shape against the dark. He probably should have left the front light on, but they’d wanted to leave the chalet as they had found it—abandoned. “Don’t argue,” he said sharply when she protested. “Just take it, okay? It’s freezing.”

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